Chapter 4
Allison showed up at ten to six for her morning shift at the day care co-op. She hadn’t slept much the night before. Between what Summer had told her and the worry haunting her, she’d been unable to relax. Telling herself to rest for the sake of the baby hadn’t helped.
She couldn’t wrap her mind around what had happened. Her husband, the man she loved and trusted and lived with and had children with, was in jail. He was being charged with crimes. Peter!
Worse, she didn’t know what to do. She had no life experiences to fall back on, no one she could ask. She kept thinking she should talk to a lawyer, but how would she find one, let alone pay him or her? She wasn’t the kind of person who was supposed to need a lawyer.
“Just focus on being here,” she told herself as she got Jackson out of his car seat. He was all smiles, excited to spend the day with people he knew.
She walked inside, Jackson grasping her hand as he toddled along with her.
The bright yellow building was a converted house in eastern Kirkland. The yard, front and back, was completely fenced. Tall trees provided shade in the summer and all the plants were nontoxic. There were plenty of toys on the huge covered patio. Artificial turf meant nearly year-round play, even in Seattle’s rainy winter months.
Inside, the twenty-four-hundred-square-foot house had been converted to day care paradise where kids were segregated by age and ability. There was a room for the infants and babies, with several changing stations and an area with thick mats for crawling time.
Around ten months, students went into the middle group, with toys, scheduled naps and story time. At about three and a half, toddlers transitioned to pre-K with even more socialization and some early learning.
The kitchen had been modified for the kids. The children ate in shifts with the meals catered by a local grocery store deli that provided child-friendly, organic when possible, meals and snacks.
But the real appeal of the day care, at least for Allison, was the hybrid co-op model they used. Parents could pay the hefty monthly fee, just like anywhere else. Or one or both parents could work as a caretaker in the day care. For every hour worked, you earned two hours of day care.
Parents who chose the latter option were vetted, just like any other employee, and had to complete a comprehensive online program. Once done, they signed up for shifts at the day care a month in advance so Liz, the manager, could have plenty of staff on hand.
Allison had been working in the day care since Jackson was a baby. She spent her mornings there, then went to her afternoon job, clerking at a grocery store. It was the best of both worlds—Jackson had quality day care that she didn’t have to pay for, plus she had a regular, albeit small paycheck from the grocery store. She always worked more hours at the co-op than she needed, so was able to bank the time for a rare afternoon off.
She greeted the other staff member on duty as she signed in her son. Once he was settled, she clocked in for her shift. Now that she was over six months pregnant, she mostly worked with the babies. Feeding and rocking babies and changing diapers was a lot easier on her body than herding energetic four-year-olds, although she still did story hour a few times a week.
She stored her handbag, wishing she could keep her phone with her, but Liz had a firm no-cell-phones rule. Hopefully she wouldn’t miss a call from Peter. After washing her hands, she slipped on an apron, then went to check in the first of the infants to arrive.
By seven thirty she had five babies, from six weeks to seven months. The former, a little girl, had been reluctantly handed over by her sobbing mother.
“I’m not ready to go back to work,” she said, wiping away tears. “But my maternity leave ended last week. I asked for more time but my boss is a heartless bastard.”
Allison had offered as much comfort as she could before taking baby Sabine. “She’ll be fine.”
“I know, but I still want to call every hour.”
“Absolutely.”
The day care also offered remote camera access through a secure server.
She got Sabine settled in her bassinet and checked on the other four. Little Michael, nearly seven months, was going to need some playtime. He was on the cusp of crawling. Jessie, her partner for her shift, tickled Michael’s tummy, making him laugh and wave his hands and feet.
“Want me to play with this one?” she asked, glancing at Allison’s large belly. “It’s easier for me to get on and off the floor.”
“I hate to give up the fun, but getting to my feet is a challenge these days.” In her current condition, she was better suited for sit-down duties.
The first hour of settling everyone helped distract her from the disaster that was her personal life. A little before nine, Liz, her boss, stopped by.
“Everyone happy?” she asked.
Allison had baby Sabine in her arms. Jessie had taken Michael to the young toddler play area and the other infants were sleeping. She looked at her friend-slash-boss, prepared to say everything was fine. Instead she found herself fighting tears.
Liz immediately hurried toward her. “What’s wrong?”
Allison struggled for control. “It’s personal, not work. Can we talk on my break?”
“Of course. Come get me when you’re ready.” Liz touched her shoulder. “Are you okay? Do you want to go home?”
“No. Being here is better.” Not only was caring for the babies a wonderful distraction, but also she wanted to bank as much day care time as possible. Who knew what horrible thing was going to happen next?
Once it was time for her break, Allison hurried into her friend’s office and closed the door, then took a seat.
Liz’s expression was concerned. “Tell me,” she said gently. “I’ve been worried.”
“I don’t know what to say or how to explain.” Allison drew in a breath as she tried to figure out how to talk about what was happening. “I just found out yesterday and it was a shock. I mean I...” She pressed her lips together before blurting, “Peter’s in jail.”
Liz’s eyes widened. “What? No. He can’t be. Your Peter?”
“I know it seems impossible. I can’t believe it myself.” Allison quickly filled her in on the details of the last eighteen or so hours. “I don’t know what to do or who to talk to. I’m scared and Peter and I barely had any time on the phone so it’s all a mess. And with my bank accounts frozen, there’s no money. I can’t even call him to ask what to do. I have to wait for him to call me.”
“Money laundering? What is that? Taking money from crimes and somehow making it legitimate?”
“I guess.” Allison hadn’t thought much about it. “Peter wouldn’t do that. He’s an accountant. His clients trust him. He doesn’t lie. He’s a good husband and father.” The tears returned. “He loves me.”
“You must be so scared. How can I help?”
Allison wanted to ask for a loan, but didn’t think that was a good idea. Liz was her friend but also her boss. That meant there was also a line between them.
“I’m okay. It’s good to just talk about what’s happening. This is so not what I’m used to in my life. I’ve never known anyone arrested.”
“Me, either. You might want to talk to a lawyer.”
Allison nodded because on the surface it was good advice...assuming one ignored the fact that SHE HAD NO MONEY! But she kept the shrieking inside her head, where it was much less scary for her boss.
“I’m thinking that, too,” she murmured with a confidence she didn’t feel. “I need to eat and get back to work. Thanks for listening.”
“Of course. Anytime. And I meant what I said. Let me know if I can help.”
“I will. Thanks.”
Allison returned to the babies. After changing a couple of diapers and feeding one of her charges, she settled in for some serious cuddle time with another. Holding a baby, rocking back and forth, comforted her. After the cuddle session she would start playtime with the infants. They used brightly colored soft toys to encourage them to focus on the object and try to grab it. If they were old enough, there was also supervised tummy time to help with balance and strength in the precrawling stage.
About thirty minutes after her break, Allison saw Liz walking toward her. Her shoulders were set, her expression determined.
“We need to talk.”
Allison returned her charge to his crib. “What’s going on?”
Liz looked around. “Let’s go to my office.”
Allison followed, a knot of worry tightening in her stomach. When they were in the office, Liz shut the door and faced her.
“You can’t work here,” she said flatly.
Allison stared at her. “How can you say that? I’m one of your best people.”
“I know that, but given what’s happening...” She looked away. “If the other members found out about Peter, they wouldn’t like it.” She returned her gaze to Allison. “They wouldn’t want you around their children.”
The unfairness of the statement was like a slap. “But I didn’t do anything wrong. We don’t know that Peter did, either.”
“He’s been arrested and is in jail. We’re talking about people’s children. I’m not willing to risk the business. I don’t mean to be cruel or pile it on, but the truth is I wouldn’t want my kids taken care of by someone so closely connected to a criminal.”
Tears burned, along with a growing sense of unfairness. “He’s not a criminal! It’s all a mistake. I can’t believe you’re doing this. I’m great with the kids.”
“I’m sorry. I wish I didn’t have to do this.”
“You don’t have to do it,” Allison said bitterly. “You know me. You’re going to be shorthanded now.”
“I’ll deal with that. I’m sorry, but you need to leave.”
Allison turned away. “This is your idea of helping?”
Liz flinched. “I know it’s awful, but I’m doing my job.”
This wasn’t happening, she thought grimly. It couldn’t be. How could she be losing her job when she hadn’t done anything wrong? If anyone was the injured party in all this, it was her.
She reached for the door handle.
“Wait,” Liz said. “You can still bring Jackson here for day care. You have a lot of credits.”
Allison was sure her former boss was trying to be helpful, but the words weren’t the least comforting. Yes, she had credits for now, but when they were used up, she would have to pay for day care if she wanted to keep working, and that sure didn’t come cheap.
She collected her things, signed out Jackson, then drove home. Once she got there, she pulled out her phone and stared at it, willing Peter to call. But he didn’t. There was only silence and the knowledge that everything was going to get a whole lot worse.
Three of Erica’s salons were on the Eastside of Seattle—that area defined as between Lake Washington and the Cascades. Bellevue (of course), on the lake in Kirkland at Carillon Point and Issaquah. The fourth was in the U District—the area around the University of Washington, just a few miles north of downtown Seattle. The salons were all sleek, modern facilities featuring clean lines and minimalistic decor, with comfortable furniture and luxurious treatment facilities. Hair care was the largest chunk of income, but the spas at each Twisted location did a thriving business.
The Bellevue salon had been her first, followed by the one in the U District. Issaquah had come third, and while she’d wanted to open in Kirkland earlier than she had, she’d been waiting for the perfect location. Once that had come available, she’d snapped up the spot and opened her fourth salon and spa.
She’d chosen to use the same color palette and furnishings in all of them, so clients always knew they were in Twisted, but there were little quirks to each of the stores. Bellevue’s pedicure rooms were all private, set up for one or two clients. At Carillon Point, there was a large lake view space upstairs where private parties could book group treatments for say a wedding party or a girls’ day out. In Issaquah, three of the treatment rooms opened onto private walled gardens. When the weather was nice, the French doors were left open and the tables could be moved outdoors.
While Erica considered Bellevue her home base, she had a small office in the other three salons and she spent at least one day a week in each of them. Even after all this time, walking into one of her salons gave her a flush of pride and a strong sense of achievement. When she’d bought out her mother twenty-five years ago, Mara had owned a three-chair salon in a run-down building long since demolished. Within two years, Erica had moved to a better location in Bellevue, had changed the name to Twisted and hired someone to do nails. Within five years, she’d had nearly forty employees, had added a thriving spa and moved to her current location. She’d signed the long-term lease on her twenty-eighth birthday. Two days later, the location in the U District had become available. She’d already been stretched thin, but she’d taken a chance and had signed that lease, as well. Two years later, she’d met Peter. They’d married and Summer had quickly followed. On her daughter’s first birthday, Erica had opened the Issaquah location.
Now she pulled into that parking lot, driving to the far end so as not to take a spot a customer might want. She’d planned to be in Kirkland but had awakened that morning thinking she needed wise counsel.
After Erica had bought out her mother, Mara had spent nearly a year traveling with one of her men. When she’d finally returned home, she’d gone back to work at another salon, saying she loved her daughter too much to work for her. But when Erica had bought the Issaquah store, Mara had insisted on moving there. She found the setting restful and loved that her station was next to the window with the view of the mountains.
Erica walked into the bright, open reception area and nodded a greeting at the two young women checking in clients. Three more were in line. Midmorning, midweek should have been a quiet time, but the hair salon was more than half-full and a quick glance at the spa schedule told her that nearly every treatment room was booked.
Erica unlocked her office and booted her computer, then went onto the salon floor. Her gaze settled on her mother, who was chatting with her client, a woman of a certain age. They had an air of familiarity about them—as if they’d known each other for years, which they probably had. Mara’s clientele was intensely loyal.
Like Erica and Summer, Mara was a tall brunette with brown eyes. She’d just turned seventy but could easily pass for someone in her late fifties. She stayed in shape with what Erica considered an unnatural affection for her Peloton bike, but whatever worked. Last summer Mara and one of the men in her life had taken some kind of barge-bike European vacation. They’d cycled from stop to stop most days and had slept on the luxury barge at night. It wasn’t Erica’s idea of a good time, but if it made her mother happy, then yay her.
As Erica approached, her mother smiled at her. “Annie, you remember my daughter, don’t you?”
Annie, a sixtysomething with stunning gray hair, nodded. “Of course. Good to see you.”
“You, too. I still envy you your hair.”
Annie laughed. “It’s about the only thing I enjoy about my age.”
“I doubt that.” Erica looked at her mother. “Do you have a break anytime soon?”
“When I’m done here.” Her mother’s brows rose. “Have I broken any rules? Am I going to get lectured?”
Mara and Annie laughed at the thought, while Erica wished what she wanted to discuss was that simple.
“Nothing so dramatic, Mom.”
“Then I’ll come see you in your office.”
“Thank you.” She lightly touched Annie’s shoulder. “So good to see you.”
Erica excused herself and took a quick tour of the store before returning to her workspace. After clearing her email, she found herself unable to concentrate. Usually work was her refuge, but not this morning.
She hadn’t slept well and when she had finally dozed off, she’d had bad dreams about Summer being held captive by someone who wouldn’t tell her what it would take to get her daughter back. Apparently the Peter situation had affected her more than she’d realized.
No, she amended mentally. Not Peter problems so much as how upset Summer had been.
“I knew you’d find out I’d been stealing towels,” her mother said cheerfully as she walked into Erica’s office.
“Very funny.”
Her mother took one of the visitors’ chairs on the other side of the desk. “What couldn’t wait until tonight?” She paused, her eyebrows drawing together. “You didn’t sleep well and you’re tense. What’s going on?”
“Nothing with me or Summer. Not directly at least.” She paused. “Peter’s in jail.”
Her mother’s eyes widened as her jaw dropped. “What did you just say?”
Erica explained what she knew about the very bizarre situation. “Obviously I haven’t talked to him, so I don’t know much. Killion found out what he could. According to Summer, Allison doesn’t know anything either.” She looked at her mother. “Allison being the second wife.”
“I know who she is. In jail?” Mara shook her head. “I can’t see it. He’s not that driven. I would think money laundering and wire fraud require more effort than he puts into most things.” She sighed. “Which sounds mean and unfair, but he was cruel to you and I’m never going to forgive that. So what are you going to do?”
“There’s nothing to do. I’m sure he has a lawyer.”
Her mother stared at her without speaking.
“What?” Erica shifted in her seat. “I’m not married to him anymore. This isn’t my problem.”
Her mother smiled. “If it’s not your problem, why did you want to talk to me?”
An excellent question, Erica thought. “Nothing like this has ever happened to our family before. It’s hard to know what to think.”
“I can see that.” Her mother studied her. “Isn’t Allison pregnant?”
“So I’m told.” Summer was far too thrilled about the impending birth of her half sister.
“And she has a toddler.”
“Jackson. Yes. He’s, I don’t know, eighteen months.”
“So Allison has one child, another on the way, her husband is in jail and her bank accounts have been frozen.”
“I’ll admit it sounds bad, but Peter and I are nothing to each other.”
“I don’t see Peter as the main issue.”
Unfortunately her mother was right about that. “Summer’s upset,” she admitted. Hysterical was a better word.
“I can imagine. She’s a tenderhearted young woman who loves her stepmother and half brother. They’re in trouble and she wants to help. And her father is in jail.” Mara’s tone was pointed.
“It’s not my rock. I’m not getting involved.”
She thought her mother might try to convince her otherwise. Instead Mara rose and smiled at her. “Good luck with that. I’ll be home tonight in case you need me.”
“I know she’s worried, but there’s nothing we can do. I’m sure Allison already has a plan and she’ll be fine.”
Amusement brightened her mother’s eyes. “Keep telling yourself that and maybe it will be true.”